


i hate baseball, i really do!

by jasondean



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, btw how does baseball even work? im a known gay i dont know SHIT about sports!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:11:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8492770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasondean/pseuds/jasondean
Summary: whizzer and marvin make a bet





	

marvin doesnt give a shit about baseball, and he never has.

as a kid, his old man used to sign him up for little league teams every fall. marvin was the wimpy sort of kid who would cry and scream and fight every single year, without doubt, dead-set in his ideas about baseball being useless and horrible, all attributed to his own aching muscles, ringing ears, and every part of his body drenched in sweat at the end of every season. and every game. and every practice. and every try-out.

really, he wasnt the type to get his hands dirty.

his last experience with the sport was years back. jason was seven and had just begun to take a slight interest in baseball, something immediately jumped on by trina who was absolutely convinced her son was to become the next baseball star. so she cultivated his curiosity and forced him into the only league thatd take him. marvin stayed out of the whole thing completely, too reminiscent of his own childhood nightmares. he was quite relieved when jason didnt seem to mind his mothers slightly overbearing encouragement, enjoying hitting balls and jogging around a diamond just fine as every kid did.

for jasons birthday, hed decided to take him out to a game. it was a complete surprise to jason, and he just about died when theyd gotten to the stadium. he was absolutely enamored with the place, begging his father to buy every single yankees memorabilia they came across on the way to their (admittedly terrible) seats. marvin didnt give in, and the only thing jason got was disgustingly overpriced icecream. he wouldve fallen asleep if it werent for jasons constant cheering and yelling. hed look over at the boy from time to time, amused by his striking resemblance to his mother – marvin had only been to the yankees stadium once as an adult, on a date with trina, who was a diehard fan and showed as much enthusiasm at the time as their son.

after that, he never bothered again. for one, he didnt like watching men scurry around after some white ball, and for two, trina insisted on taking jason every time the occasion arose. he had a lot more fun with his mom, anyhow.

he didnt even realize it was the world series tonight until about a week ago.

he was picking up jason from school on a friday, and theyd gotten stuck in the typical new york traffic. marvin finds comfort in quiet. jason, on the other hand, feels the need to fill every lull with words.

"can you believe whizzer thinks the cubs are going to win?" he scoffed, fiddling with the window (read: slowly driving marvin insane).

"why, you dont like the cubs?" he asked, finally locking the jasons window. in response, his son gave him an irritated glare, like the action wasnt wasting air conditioning or making an ungodly amount of noise.

jason shrugged in response. "sure, i like them, but cmon, dad. how could they win? its been 108 years. im not rooting for losers, obviously."

"obviously," marvin repeated in a matter-of-fact tone despite being majorly lost.

"i mean, i guess the indians kinda suck too, but the cubs have sucked for a longer time. thats what i think."

marvin must have been blessed to get such an eloquent, intelligent son.

so, apparently the indians and the cubs were playing, and apparently the indians were going to kick the cubs asses. its all very boring for marvin.

"FUCK YES! DID YOU SEE THAT, MARVIN? HOLY  _SHIT,_ " whizzers inappropriately loud exclamation makes marvin nearly jump out of his skin, having been playing around in his own daydream for who knows how long. the tv echoes his boyfriends cheering, and the announcers say something about a homerun. he does recall hearing the satisfying  _crack_ of a bat hitting a ball.

"they arent even leading," marvin points out, ignoring whizzers eyes snapping towards him, hot and glaring. "the indians have just as much of a chance as they do, if not more," he says.

"are you fucking kidding me?" whizzer asks, giving him a not-so-light slap on the shoulder. "the cubs have got this. this is literally what my whole life has been leading up too, marvin," he says with deadly seriousness. marvin resists the urge to roll his eyes, wondering if hes some freak for not devoting his entire being to baseball like his boyfriend, his son, and ex-wife. 

"ill tell you what," marvin says as the program transitions into a commercial. "if the cubs win, ill give you a blowjob."

"really?" whizzer replies, raising a brow. marvin isnt the biggest fan of going down on him, and he certainly doesnt hide his distaste.

"really," he affirms. "if they dont, you blow me."

"thats not–" whizzer begins to protest.

"not what?" marvin gasps. "not fair? i thought you were so sure the indians are going to lose."

"i  _am_ ," whizzer hisses. "they are going to lose, because the cubs are fucking awesome."

"why havent they won a world series since the past century, then?"

" _look_..." he huffs, making a point to ignore the sly grin spreading across marvins face. "fine, deal," he says, sticking out his hand.

"you dont trust my word?"

"just shake on it."

and so they do. 

its definitely much more fun for marvin to actually be rooting for a team for once. especially when it gets whizzer so flustered. throughout the game, he finds opportunity after opportunity to slide in a snide, off-hand comment about whizzers team, who then immediately takes the bait and goes off. its amusing – really, this is how all games should go.

marvin eventually gets bored again, though, losing track of the score and which team is at the bat. he rests his head on whizzers rigid shoulder, making useless attemps to cuddle up against him.

"youre too tense," he complains.

"youre too... _FUCK_ ," whizzer curses as the batter strikes out.

" _language_ ," marvin scolds. "its just a game..." he feels whizzer shrug in response. "...a game youre going to lose, obviously, but a game nonetheless."

"do you want me to hit you?"

"sounds kinky."

" _oh my god_ ," whizzer groans, shoving the now-chuckling marvin off of him. 

 

"kiss me."

"no."

"please?"

"no."

"its a commercial."

whizzer glances over at marvin, whos now lying on his back, head resting on the arm of the sofa. he gives him an exasperated look, acting as if hes the single most terrible annoyance in the world (and of course, marvin laughs, knowing full well he loves him even so). he shifts sideways and leans over, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. he tries to leave it at just that, but he finds himself kissing him again, letting his lips part against marvins as he pulls him closer.

they bump noses and foreheads as whizzer falls on top of him with as much grace as a newborn deer. they laugh, tuning out the sound of the tv until its just a buzz in the background, casting moving shadows over their two bodies as they kiss. marvin murmurs something as whizzers hands move to his zipper, undoing his pants without care. 

marvin moves his lips away from whizzers, foreheads resting together still. "i though you wanted to watch the game."

"got distracted," he replies with a shrug, crashing against marvin again. he kisses him deep and just sloppily enough to give off the impression of ease to hide his calculated actions, a touch marvin appreciates greatly. marvin moves his hands under his shirt, smiling slightly when he feels whizzer shiver at the feeling of his cold hands against his bare skin. 

they kiss open-mouthed - its something marvin thought he detested, until he met whizzer. he met whizzer and he single-handedly overruled every awkward high school memory he associated with frenching and made it something new, passion that made him feel youthful and fuzzy all over. 

whizzer moves his lips to marvins neck, kissing gently before looking back up at him, his hands now delved into his boxers coaxing an erection from marvin. he moves down, puling down his pants and boxers with one movement.

"i guess the cubs are losing?" marvin asks him.

"this doesnt have anything to do with the game," whizzer replies. "what, are you complaining?"

"no, no," he says quickly. "not at all." whizzer shakes his head slightly, kissing down his stomach and making an off-hand comment about the importance of manscaping, which marvin promptly ignores. 

he sighs, looking down at whizzer as he starts to blow. he uses both his mouth and his hands, something that for some reason never actually occurred to marvin before (but then again he didnt give much thought to sucking dick, either), but definitely something that makes all the difference. theres something about whizzer - how he alternates from spit and hand to solely mouth, how he looks up every so often with those dreamy doe eyes - that makes marvin feel like hes seventeen again. 

he glances over at the tv, noticing the cubs gaining a lead on the opposing team.

whizzer pulls up with a wet  _pop_ , giving him a disapproving look. he never was one for divided attention. "youre such an asshole," he chides, though he slides his palm slowly up marvins length even so.

marvin pushes a hand through his coarse hair, gently pulling through the sea of tangles. "what, is that better?" he asks, cupping whizzers cheek as he uses two hands to pump slowly.

"much better," whizzer replies, kissing the head without breaking away from his gaze.

"howd you get so good at this?" marvin asks as whizzer takes his time lazily working back to sucking.

"practice," whizzer says. "lots and lots of practice."

"quite the player in your time, werent you?"

he rolls his eyes. "mm, sure. maybe you could take a cue from that."

"im not  _that_ bad," marvin scoffs, offended.

"i beg to differ. i think i only cum because you make such a sad effort," whizzer says with faux pity, sitting up on his knees and removing his shirt, throwing it over marvins face. he protests, throwing the piece of clothing to the ground. "i go through all that trouble and you dont even swallow," he complains light-heartedly, settling back down and kissing at marvins inner thighs. "god, howd i get stuck with you, anyway?"

"no idea, you sure couldve had your pick at any guy you wanted."

"dont humor me."

the night proceeds with less banter and more whizzer dedicatedly going down. and what a beautiful thing that is, marvin ponders.

finally, the end of the game nears. marvin sits up on the couch, watching the program despite having lost any clue on whats going on. whizzer lays in his lap, dozing off, too lazy to make any sort of effort to clean up the mess on his face and chest. 

he sees him smile when the final inning comes to a close.

"i told you theyd win."

"and so they did."

"108 years."

"maybe youre a good luck charm," marvin says, stroking his hair.

"maybe," whizzer muses. he rolls over, looking up at him. "you owe me a blowjob."

**Author's Note:**

> keep your head in the box, dont think of a thing, keep your head in the box, your eye on the ball, take a deep breath, then let it out, and SWING


End file.
